I’ve owned the same wine glasses for (checks watch) my entire marriage. A dozen-ish years ago, I picked out a set that seemed sturdy enough to last. Many, many parties and family holidays and home-cooked meals later, those glasses are almost all still around. Some have even dropped on the floor and…bounced. I’d recommend them to anyone seeking a nice-but-not-too-nice set of wine glasses.
Somewhere along the way, though, Zalto sent me a single handblown wine glass to try. It was delightful. It was delicate. It was elegant. And it freaked me out, to be honest. For me, it’s essential to declare a certain hour in the evening “don’t-trust-me-with-glass-o’clock”—an hour too late for dishwashing or even putting dishes away. That hour may be even earlier when you’re talking about a single-glass collection of precious $63 wine glasses.
So I never used it. The risk was too great. I stashed it safely in the back of the cupboard and kept using my sturdy, totally decent everyday wine glasses. The years ticked by.
Recently, though, I came across some new handblown glasses, from a New York–based company called Glasvin. I ordered a pair, justifying to myself that each glass was about half the price of a Zalto. “If, over the course of a summer, you use one to drink a case of wine,” I found myself arguing with no one, “it’s just adding three or so dollars to each bottle.” The glasses arrived. They were luxurious. Delicate. Elegant. Weightless. And somehow still sturdy-feeling. They fit in the dishwasher—and came back out safely.
Using the Glasvin glasses, I found myself paying more attention to the wine I drank. Holding the extra-thin stem made me feel like I was sipping wine at a fancy restaurant, even though I was just sitting at my kitchen table like I had every other night before. The scent of each glass of wine seemed more concentrated; each sip felt more special. I ordered some more as an anniversary present—things are looking up for the next dozen years.
$74.00, Parcelle Wine
$69.00, Parcelle Wine
Originally Appeared on Epicurious